


Completely Overcome By You

by GreenCat42



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Laith, M/M, Punk AU, The Sharpshooter Zine, Zine Submission, Zine piece, and is basically in a gang with Allura, and then Keith shows up, klance, lance is a punk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-29
Updated: 2018-07-29
Packaged: 2019-06-18 00:53:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15473907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreenCat42/pseuds/GreenCat42
Summary: Lance is a punk who acts out, running with the Altean Roses and spending a lot of time skipping class. That's until Keith shows up and welp there goes his free time.





	Completely Overcome By You

**Author's Note:**

> This was for the Sharpshooter Zine which I'll link below. You should all check out the wonderful art and fics!

I wrote this fic for the [Sharpshooter Zine](https://docs.google.com/document/d/17Sv-f1hy8CfVTKMuQMR1WS35KnkVWQOq42nvxPe5lsU/edit) which you can read now! There's amazing art and other fics that everyone should check out! 

* * *

 

        “McClain, you coming?” Rolo called.

        Lance shut his locker, twirling the locker, and settling his backpack over his shoulder. “Yeah I’m coming!”

        The bell rang, but neither of the boys were actually going to class. Rolo slung an arm around Lance’s shoulder’s, the scent of cigarettes and weed wafting in his nose. Other students shifted around the pair, keeping their eyes to themselves. Not many wanted to piss off the Altean Roses and especially not one of the co-leaders.

        They strolled their way to the gym and outside. Warm sunshine settled on Lance’s hair settling heat into the dark brunette locks. He needed to re-dye the tips of his hair, the blue was fading. “Lance!” called a tall white-haired woman with a distinct British voice.

        “Yo Lura,” Lance drawled.

        Rolo let go of Lance’s shoulders, going to drape himself over his best friend and cohort Nyma. Slipping a slightly squashed pack of smokes from his back pocket, Lance slid one out and in between his lips. “Allow me,” Allura said holding a flame from her lighter.

        “Thanks.”

        The hot burn of cigarette smoke burned down his throat as he took a drag, letting the smoke curl in front of his face. His Mama didn’t like he smoked, but she couldn’t really stop him. Working three jobs to support her family as a single mom didn’t leave a lot of time for her to scold or mother her children. Most of the responsibility fell on Lance’s shoulders, taking care of four children including himself.

        Plaxum sidled up to him a soft smile curling on her lips. “Can I bum a smoke, I left mine at home.”

        He sighed and held out his pack. They’d dated for a short time; her hair had been bright pink and curled around her shoulders. Now it was a deep royal purple and cropped short at her ears. “Thanks Lance, you’re a peach,” she said kissing him on the cheek.

        Two mermaid tattoos curled around her dark-skinned arms, her loose tank top showing off the waves that covered her shoulders. Lance watched as the rest of their little gang laughed and joked covered by a cloud of smoke. “Hey, no smoking on school ground!” a loud voice cried.

        One of the hall monitors, goody two shoes, ran towards them their badge fluttering in the breeze. “Scatter!” Lance called

        Allura giggled and they all dropped their cigarettes and dispersed. Lance’s long legs and Allura’s height meant they covered a lot of ground easily. Once they were out of sight, both teens stopped their race, catching their breaths. She was one of his best friends and kept him from going crazy when he had to take care of his siblings. “Did you see his face?” she cackled tucking a loose piece of curly hair behind her ear.

        “He thinks he’s so cool, because he gets to make sure kids are going to class,” Lance grumbled.

        “C’mon, I have a free period next, we can carve art into the tables.”

        Lance knew Allura came from a wealthy family, but after the death of her Father, she stopped caring. It had been him that comforted her; the rest of her family lived abroad and wanted to keep it that way.

        The two of them snuck back into school using one of the rarer exits. It was supposed to be locked, but Lance knew how to pick locks. It was one of his better skills. Allura grinned as the door swung open. The hallways were empty, kids already in class. They strolled down one of the hallways, arm in arm. If anyone bothered them, Allura had a pack of hall passes she’d stolen from a teacher and the ability to forge several teacher’s signatures.

        When the two of them entered the classroom, it was noisy. The teacher was nowhere to be found and the apparent appointed student was dozing in the teacher’s chair. “Where’s Mrs. Montgomery?” Lance asked sliding into one of the desks.

        “Sick, she’s still got morning sickness,” another student supplied.

        Four months pregnant and her last year, so she didn’t care much anymore. Allura pulled out two pocket knives and handed one to Lance, who grinned and flipped it open. A few students next to them sidled to the side keeping eyes to their desks. Lance began to add to the carvings he’d made last week.

        When the bell rang, Lance handed the knife back to Allura and stood stretching his back. “I got precalc next,” he groaned. “I actually gotta go to that class.”

        “Boo, you failing?”

        “Yeah almost, the teacher sends emails to Mama if I miss.”

        Waving at Allura, he left the room, slinging his bag around his shoulders. The halls were crowded as always, but a path opened for him, some students staring, whispers rising in his wake. Not that Lance cared.

        Precalc was three hallways and on the second floor, which mean stairs. After hurrying, something Lance didn’t enjoy, he managed to make it, sinking his butt into a seat right as the bell rang.

        The teacher took role, his voice droning on. “Lance McClain?”

        “Here.”

        Mr. Smith checked off his name and moved on. Lance doodled on his desk with a pen, despite Mr. Smith’s prior complaints. He barely paid attention, it was precalc. Then the door opened, and someone peeked their head in. “Ah, you have a new student,” she said a nervous smile on her face.

        “Send them in.”

        His pen dropped to the desk when a vision walked in. Dark hair curled around his shoulders and equally dark eyes stared passively as he walked into the classroom. The door clicked shut making the new kid jolt a little. “Why don’t you introduce yourself and then you can sit,” Mr. Smith said scanning the room and grimaced noticing the only empty desk was next to Lance. “Next to Mr. McClain.”

        The dark-haired beauty moved stiffly to the front of the room, hands clasped together. _‘Really, fingerless gloves, what an emo,’_ Lance thought.

        He really didn’t want to think of how nicely the new kid filled out the black t-shirt he had on or the smooth pale skin that he saw. “My name is Keith Kogane, I just transferred from Galra Tech,” he started scanning the class, his voice lowering when snickering rose in the wake of his previous school.

        “Ah thank you, please Mr. Kogane, you may take your seat.”

        Lance stretched out, glancing at the boy when he sat down. Keith didn’t even have a backpack, slipping a pen out of his pocket. “Can I borrow a piece of paper?” he asked.

        Opening his backpack, he slid a rarely used notebook out and ripped a sheet out. He handed it to Keith, raking his gaze down his body. “I’m Lance.”

        Keith took the sheet almost completely ignoring him but a soft thanks. Lance shrugged. He knew he was good looking, but if the kid was straight well then too bad. Deciding to focus more on the class instead of glancing at the dark-haired kid sitting next to him was harder than Lance thought.

+++

        Three weeks passed, and Lance barely spoke more than a handful of words with Keith. It was a little frustrating, especially since Lance tried to talk to him. Since Lance actually started going to class after a very bad parent-teacher conference, he found out they shared four classes together. He thought it was a good thing, and so did Pidge and Hunk. “Hey Lance!” Hunk called out. “Are you free after school? I wanted to show you and Pidge something I’ve been working on.”

        “Yeah, I can only stay for an hour though, gotta pick up Gabby from preschool.”

        Hunk shook his head a bit, the ends of his orange headband shaking. “You act like this bad boy punk, but you really are a softie.”

        Lance growled leaning into Hunk’s personal space. “I am not a softie.”

        The problem was Hunk knew Lance was all bark and no bite. He got into fights mainly to help kids who were being bullied instead of being the bully. “Whatever, meet me in the chemistry lab after last period.”

        Lance rolled his eyes, then the last bell rang, and he frowned. Late to class, ugh he didn’t need that. It was gym and Lance hated gym. He was pulling his grade up though by going to class for the past two weeks, but today he wasn’t feeling it. Instead of heading south towards the gym, he decided to stroll out one of the exits heading to the bleachers for a smoke and maybe some sun.

        What he didn’t expect to see was two boys under the bleachers. It was a common enough make out place, but what was even more surprising was seeing Keith. Lance almost called out when he saw the other guy sucker punch Keith. Anger rose in his chest, that wasn’t cool at all. Keith wiped blood from his nose, eyes dark with anger. “Call me what you want, I don’t care.”

        “There’s enough fags here for this school as it is,” the boy sneered.

        Lance gasped, anger filling his chest with unbridled fury. Stomping over, he raised his fist and clocked the guy’s cheek making him stumble back. “What did you call him?”

        “Lance? Nothing-man I-just...”

        “I heard you,” Lance growled. “You’re going to take it back.”

        “Or what, you gonna protect your fuck buddy.”

        Gripping the collar of the guy’s shirt, Lance pulled him upwards and close. “I’ll beat you to within an inch of your life!” he snarled.

        A hand on his shoulder made Lance jolt. “It’s not worth it,” Keith’s soft voice said.

        “Oh, he’s worth it alright.”

        Shrugging Keith’s hand off gave the guy’s chance to get out of Lance’s grip. “Two fags, I think I won the lottery.”

        Clenching his fists, Lance gritted his teeth wanting to pummel him into the dirt. “We can take him,” Keith said cracking his knuckles.

        “I don’t think so.”

        Two more teens appeared from behind the bleachers. They grinned and walked over to their friend. “This is gonna be good.”

        The next five minutes was a blur of fists, blood, and curses. Back to back, the two of them put up a good fight. Watching the trio run off finally, Lance sighed in relief. He winced noticing the broken and bloody skin on his hands. He had some ouches, especially in his ribs where one of the other boys got in a solid kick. Turning he smiled at Keith. “We make a good team.”

        Keith held out a bloody hand, his gloves ripped in a few places. “We do.”

        Lance clasped it returning the bright smile that shone on Keith’s face. That smile did strange things to Lance’s chest, making it clench, his ears burning suddenly. “I uh-we should get out of here, ya know before they come back,” Lance said.

        The dark-haired boy pulled out a handkerchief and handed it to Lance, it was deep red and black checkered. “Here, for your nose.”

        Lifting up his hand, he brushed his nose, surprised when he saw fresh blood on his fingers. “Thanks.”

        The two boys froze when they heard voices, broken bits coming through the bleachers. “Let’s get out of here,” Lance said.

        Keith grabbed his hand and pulled him along, their legs eating up the distance.

        When they reached a park about three blocks from school, Keith stopped. “Do you wanna swing?”

        “What are you five?”

        “Maybe? C’mon.”

        Lance followed Keith though, sliding his bony butt onto one of the faded plastic swings. Rusty chains hooked up to the bar above and creaked when he put his weight in. “Do you think this’ll collapse?” Lance asked.

        “Dunno, we should find out.”

        The two boys swung in silence for a few minutes. “Ya know this is the longest conversation we’ve ever had,” Lance said.

        “Thanks, uh for backing me up.”

        “No prob. So, you’re gay?”

        Keith froze, his scuffed-up Chucks digging into the wood chips that layered the playground and slowing his swing to a stop. “So what if I am.”

        His voice betrayed him, hesitant and worried. “S’okay with me, I’m bi anyways.”

        “Oh.”

        “Oh? That’s all you have to say,” Lance asked a laugh bursting from his chest.

        “Well, you flirt with girls enough,” Keith muttered glaring down at his shoes.

        “Yeah, it’s easy. Not many boys playing the field for our team,” Lance said shrugging.

        “True,” Keith replied. “I uh should get going home.”

        “Me too, gotta clean up before Mama comes home.”

        Something reflected in Keith’s eyes, sadness, loneliness; but he wasn’t sure. “Hey give me your phone.”

        “Why?” Keith questioned.

        “So I can put my number in, then we can hang.”

        “Uh ok.”

        Keith pulled a faded red flip phone from his pocket and handed it over. “Dude I haven’t used one of these in like four years.”

        “Well some of us can’t afford fancy phones,” Keith snapped bristling.

        “Sorry, sorry. Mine’s a hand me down from my Mama anyways.”

        He pulled out his phone, the blue case worn and faded from use. “Send me a text so I got yours.”

        Keith slowly typed out a message, then Lance’s phone buzzed. “Thanks, well see you.”

        Keith waved a little, dried blood darkening his gloves.

        His Mama wasn’t home when Lance returned, hands stuffed in his jean pockets to hide the cuts. Two of his siblings were still at school, and the youngest at daycare. His younger sister Allita was home sick, or apparently home sick. Lance tried to avoid her, but she was on the living room couch, a blanket curled around her waist and The Lion King playing on the tv. “Lance, why are you home?” she called.

        He poked his head in. “Hey Allita.”

        She sighed when she saw him, her mouth stretching to a thin line. “You got into another fight didn’t you.”

        “It was-it was to protect someone,” Lance replied.

        The memory of Keith’s smile flashed in his mind, the churning in his chest returning. “Alright, c’mon let’s get you cleaned up before Mama gets home.”

        He followed his younger sister up the stairs and into the bathroom. Clothes littered the floor and a generous amount of beauty products crowded the counter. Pulling open the medicine cabinet, she got the band aids and hydrogen peroxide. Reaching inside a half open drawer, Allita took a handful of cotton balls and set them on the tiny bit of counter left. “Hands.”

        Lance held out his hands, his sister wincing when she saw the dried blood and cuts. “You really railed these guys, huhn?”

        His ears burned, a flush rising to his cheeks. “He used a slur.”

        Allita simply hummed and dipped cotton balls into the peroxide. Gently dabbing at the cuts, Lance winced when they came into contact with his cuts. “What’s her name, the one you were protecting?”

        “Keith, his name-its Keith.”

        Her eyes flickered up to his face understanding settling in her eyes. She knew he was bi, the entire family did. Regardless, they supported him. “Does Keith have someone to clean up his wounds like me?”

        “I-I don’t know.”

        “I’ll go pick up Gabby today, you can’t go in there the way you look,” Allita said wrapping his hands in gauze. “You’re getting a nice shiner.”

        Gasping Lance glanced in the mirror, only to see a black eye framing one of his eyes. “Ugh, can I borrow some of your concealer?”

        “Only if you promise to give it back this time.”

        “I will, pinky promise.”

        “Ok I’ll go get it, so you don’t go hunting through my room again.”

        Lance’s phone vibrated in his back pocket. The screen flashed Hunk and he swiped over to accept the call. “Lance bro where are you? Aren’t we meeting after school?”

        “I-uh something came up.”

        “You got into another fight,” Hunk said a sigh coming through the receiver. “Whatever, me and Pidge are meeting at the Black Lion for burgers and fries. You down?”

        “Yeah, gotta get cleaned up first. Allita is picking up Gabby for me.”

        Luckily the Black Lion wasn’t far from his house, since Lance didn’t have a car and he had no desire to use the bus system. It was nice out, the wind ruffling his hair. Pulling out his pack, he lit up a cigarette. It felt good, the taste and the burn when he inhaled. It helped make the walk go faster, focusing on the burning end.

        Hunk and Pidge were waiting for him in the parking lot standing next to Hunk’s worn out yellow Jeep. “There you are, ugh you stink, I told you, you need to quit.”

        “It helps relax me,” Lance retorted.

        “Give me your pack.”

        “No!”

        “Get him, Pidge!”

        “You gremlin!”

        The fight wasn’t very fair, but Hunk managed to grab his cigarettes, stomping on them and breaking all four he had left. “I won’t let you destroy your lungs anymore, we care about you you dingus,” Pidge retorting a little out of breath.

        “Fuck you!” Lance snarled. “You have no idea what I deal with!”

        Both of his friends recoiled. “You don’t mean that!” Pidge yelled.

        Lance groaned pulling at his hair. No, he didn’t. Allura was his best friend, but she didn’t push him to do better, to actually think he could graduate, these two did. Letting his anger and frustration out, he sighed. “You’re right.”

        “You bet your bottom dollar I am,” Pidge touted.

        “Now that we’re done with this nonsense, let’s get our burgers on!” Hunk crowed.

        Luckily the line was short, most of the other customers already seated. They put their order in, which didn’t take long to come out. The Black Lion wasn’t known for its quality, but it was fast.

        “So, what happened, spill,” Pidge said after they sat down in a booth.

        “I was skipping gym and this guy hit Keith and ya know called him names. I had to help.”

        “It wasn’t cause you think Keith’s cute,” Pidge pointed out.

        “I-I don’t think, c’mon what?” Lance sputtered.

        “Admit it, you have a crush on a certain mullet-headed, black jeans, red jacket wearing teen that happens to sit next to you in precalc,” Hunk said pointing a fry at Lance.

        Heat continued to spread from Lance’s ears down his cheeks and crawling down his neck. He stared down at his burger and fries, hands clenched tightly in his lap. It was true, so very true, but Lance wasn’t ready to voice it. “No, I don’t,” he gritted out.

        Dammit, he needed a cigarette and he didn’t have the money to spend on another one. “Lance, you beat up three kids-”

        “Keith helped!” Lance interrupted.

        Pidge sighed and pinched the bridge of their nose, pushing up their glasses. “Fine-you and Keith beat up three boys because they were making fun of Keith.”

        “He called Keith a-” Lance couldn’t finish what he was saying, the word that spewed from the bully’s lips made his chest burn white hot.

        Pidge’s eyes widened. “No, he didn’t.”

        Hunk swallowed hard. “He used the f word, didn’t he.”

        He stared down at his hands in his laps, fingers twitching. _‘I need a fucking cigarette,’_ Lance thought.

        “No wonder you beat those boys up,” Pidge said their voice soft.

        Despite being known as fairly open to others, Altea High still had their fair share of bullies and homophobes. That was how their trio got together after all. Hunk was being made fun of for having two moms and Lance stood up for him, threatening to break their faces.

        Pidge had come out as nonbinary, insisting on being called Pidge instead of Katie. When they got bullied, it was Lance who came to their rescue, despite the fact he had the reputation of being a punk, who got into fights and skipped class to smoke with his gang under the bleachers.

        They reached a hand out to Lance, grabbing some of his fries. “You did the right thing then,” they said stuffing them into their mouth.

        “Hey Pidge!” Lance erupted. “No fry stealing!”

        It was enough to get Lance out of his funk, and make the anger fade from his eyes. He was about to steal some of Pidge’s fries in retaliation when his phone buzzed in his pocket. Pulling out his phone, a text lit up from an unknown number.

**Unknown 5:31pm:** hey its keith, uh i was wondering if u wanted to go eat somewhere tomorrow like thanks for saving me and shit

**Sharpshooter 5:33pm:** yeah sure! where at?

        Lance paused a moment to add him to his contacts.

**Keith’s Mullet: 5:36pm:** uh i dunno, pick.

**Sharpshooter 5:37pm:** what about Sal’s Pizza?

**Keith’s Mullet: 5:41pm:** ok

        “Who are you texting?” Hunk asked.

        Lance froze, clutching his phone tight. “Uh…”

        “It’s Keith isn’t it,” Pidge drawled. “Looks like Loverboy is at it again.”

        “Yeah, he asked if I wanted to go out to eat tomorrow to thank me for helping him and stuff,” Lance said.

        “Awe your first date! I call dibs on designing the cake for your wedding,” Hunk said wiping away a nonexistent tear.

        “It’s not a date!”

        “Lance has a date, Lance has a date!” Pidge jeered.

        To retaliate he grabbed a handful of their fries making them squawk indignantly.

        Lance decided to wait till he was home before texting Keith again. Instead, he enjoyed the time spent with his friends.

+++

        It was 6:41pm and Keith was arriving at 7 to pick him up. Keith said he had transportation and Lance didn’t want to try and see if his Mama could let him borrow the car. Depending on which job she worked, she’d take the bus or the car. Fidgeting in front of his bed, he had four outfits laid out. Chewing on a nail, he tried to decide. Allita poked her head into his room. “Getting ready for a date?” she jeered her voice sing song.

        “Yeah, but I don’t know what to wear.”

        His voice shook, nerves rattling around in his chest. He didn’t really think he needed to impress Keith, I mean they saw each other bloody and bruised just the other day. Still, he didn’t want to look less than his best. “That one.”

        It was the blue long sleeve and black jeans ensemble paired with his bright red chucks. “You’re a godsend,” Lance said leaning over and pecking his sister’s cheek.

        “Ugh gross.”

        She pushed him away pausing a moment. “He better be worth it.”

        Bubbles fizzled in his chest. “Yeah me too.”

        He quickly got dressed and laced up his shoes. After checking his appearance one last time, he shut the door to his bedroom and thumped downstairs. His phone flashed 6:54pm when the rumble sounds of a motorcycle grew. Lance opened the door to see Keith roll up to the curb on a cherry red motorcycle. His black leather jacket hugged all the right places and he settled one foot on the ground pulling his helmet off. “Hey Lance.”

        Lance shut the door to the house hands absentmindedly patting his pocket for his house key and his phone. “Hey, you-you have a motorcycle.”

        “Yeah, Shiro helped me build it. I used to take a shop class in my old school.”

        Lance.exe wasn’t working. His throat dried up, eyes widening. “That-that Keith, shit man. That is the coolest thing!”

        “You ready?”

        “Helmet?” Lance said knowing his Mom would kill him if she found out he rode a motorcycle without a helmet.

        Popping open a hatch, he pulled out a deep blue helmet. “For you. Hop on, we’ll head to Sals.”

        Lance accepted the helmet, sliding it on his head and gingerly got onto the bike. “You’ll have to hold onto me,” Keith said sliding his own helmet on.

        “Oh-ok.”

        It was weird wrapping his arms around Keith, feeling the sturdy muscles under the leather jacket he wore. It made his heart race and his palms sweat. Revving the engine, Keith made a u-turn and roared down the street. Lance screamed, tightening his hold exponentially, the wind whipping at his clothes.

        The sound of the engine was too loud for talk, but after a few minutes, Lance opened his eyes and watched as Keith expertly weaved in and out of traffic. It took way less time to reach Sal’s the smell of pizza wafting in the air.

        “Are you going to let go of me?” Keith asked with a soft chuckle.

        That chuckle shouldn’t make the butterflies in Lance’s chest double in size, but he peeled his arms from around the other boy and jolted back almost falling off the motorcycle. Keith locked the motorcycle and both helmets the two heading into Sals.

        It wasn’t a very nice restaurant, your typical pizza joint. Black and white tiled floors, grimy greasy walls, and plastic red chairs and tables with maps under glass and photos and cards people stuck underneath. “I kinda already called in an order,” Keith said rubbing the back of his head.

        “What did’ya get?”

        “Pepperoni and pineapple, I hope that’s ok.”

        “Never had it, sounds interesting.”

        Pink flooded Keith’s cheeks, but he returned Lance’s smile with a small one of his own. Keith insisted paying for the pizza and drinks.

        They settled into one of the red plastic booths, the pizza steaming in front of them. Lance wasn’t sure about pepperoni and pineapple, but it was good. “This is actually really good,” he said after finishing a bite.

        Keith on the other hand was turning pink, his pizza nearly forgotten in his hand. “I’m glad you like it. Shiro complains that pineapple shouldn’t belong on pizza.”

        “Mmm well more for us.”

        They chatted about school, about Keith’s old school, and slowly the pizza disappeared. Keith fiddled with his straw wrapper, glancing at the empty pizza box. “Are you ready to go?”

        Lance had been fishing ice out of his glass and chewing on it while they chatted. “Yeah, this was fun. We should do it again.”

        Another small smile, one that was a bit bigger. Keith’s smiles shouldn’t make Lance’s heart race or hands sweat, but they did. Rising from the booth, the two of them walked out of the restaurant. Keith paused as they reached his bike, hands hesitant to pull out his keys.

        The sun was setting, street lights flickering on and washing them with yellow light. “Can I kiss you?” Keith asked, his voice a whisper.

        Lance was broken again, his heart hammering. Kiss Keith, oh boy yeah! Before he forgot to answer, he quickly stammered out. “Uh-yeah, ok this is good-”

        Warm soft lips pressed against Lance’s, hands gripping the front of his shirt. He froze for a moment, then leaned in, kissing back. He slid his hands around the back of Keith’s neck sliding into his hair, which was surprisingly soft.

        Keith pulled back, cheeks pink. “I-uh if it’s not apparent I like you.”

        “Yeah, I like you too.”

        Lance leaned in to kiss him again only for Keith to lean back. “Does this mean-uh that we’re boyfriends?”

        “Of course Keithy boy.”

        Slightly rolling his eyes, Keith leaned in for another kiss.


End file.
